Dead dreams swept by
Sightless eye seek me.
I, a man of many deaths, see.
I, a man wonder-less, go.
I, a man powerless, know.
Folly I step on endless grass of today,
Tread daggers of past regrets of many,
And sleep tomorrow away.
Tread many words of calamity
Not many dare say.
For it won’t happen on my bay,
I tread my row, a Ferryman’s Frey.